


Clear Spoken Words

by Owlet (shinetheway)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinetheway/pseuds/Owlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair and his thoughts, and a kiss.<br/>This story is a sequel to A Clear Time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clear Spoken Words

## Clear Spoken Words

by Owlet

Author's homepage: <http://squidge.org/~theforest/senfic.html>

Disclaimers: Not mine, never were, not making any money or getting anything but the satisfaction of creating something I hope my readers will like. 

Notes: Thank you to all the IRC-people who gave me the gift of their presence while I was writing this, and to Bernice for pointing out that very intriguing bit about the guys' hands. This is for Andrew, the best brother a girl could ever want. 

Summary: Blair and his thoughts, and a kiss. 

Warnings: None. It's sweet, sappy, and a First Time by the beach. What more could you ask for? :) 

* * *

Clear Spoken Words  
by Owlet  

This...this is so perfect. A whole day of taking it easy, no stress, no pressure, just the wind and waves and sun--well, maybe not the sun, but it's a really nice, bright cloud cover we've go going here, and lets face it, in Oregon that's about as close as we're going to get. Jim's just hangin' down by the shoreline, surfboard under his arm, playing with the wavelets that are making it to shore. He looks so happy, so relaxed--I don't think I've ever seen him so at peace. It's like he usually tries to carry the problems of the whole world on his shoulders, a voluntary burden but one that wears on him more that he'll probably ever admit. But now... 

Now that's all gone, and I can't keep from grinning like an idiot. Because it was _me_ who did that, _my_ doing the way he's fooling around in the surf like some kid with a priceless look of peace in his eyes. Never in a million years would I have dreamed that Jim--stoic, reserved, violent, repressed, suspicious, hurting Jim--would ever let someone like me get near him, close to him. 

But he did. For once, here and now, I wasn't a stranger, I wasn't an outsider--I was a friend. And he trusted me enough to let his guard down like this, to really relax. 

It's an incredible feeling. 

Hard to believe that this is what was going to come of that first meeting. Jeez, I still don't know what made Jim come to my office--must have been sheer desperation. But he _did_ come, and it was rocky at first, but we made it work, somehow. It was almost eerie, but somehow...right, I guess. Good. 

God, I love him. 

Well, nothing new there, right? I mean, I don't know much about love, but this sense of belonging, of connection, that's been around for a while. It's like he's everything, everything in my world, his presence and his absence are what I define myself around. Spooky, huh? But it's okay. It's _Jim._

Sometimes I think everyone in the world thinks we're sleeping together. I guess it's hard for them to see two obviously loving, caring men, living together, working together, without thinking of the most obvious reason for us to do it. And, I gotta be fair, that Jim's a Sentinel and I'm his Guide is not going to occur to many people. I've heard rumors at the station of a pool, though--maybe Jim and I can chip in a few bucks secretly and make a killing 'coming out.' 

Heh, I can see their faces now--especially Simon! Man, that would be a riot. Jim would never go for it, though--that man is way too honest, at least most of the time. But anyway, the guys at the station are wrong--it isn't like that between us. 

Or is it? I don't even know anymore, lately--I had a couple of odd dreams a few weeks back, and of course I've indulged in idle speculation--but you have to admit, if you live with someone long enough, you're either dead or crazy if you don't wonder what 'it' would be like. And Jim...the man is a walking wet dream, handsome _and_ with a great personality. And he does look great in that wetsuit--all muscular and cut and almost fiendishly graceful. But that doesn't mean that I want him _that_ way. Does it? 

He's a good surfer, too--I wonder where he learned? 

Ah, hell, I'm not going to worry about it now. I refuse to worry about _anything_ right now. He's my best friend, and I love him, and that's all I need to know. 

Wow. _Really_ cut. Man, those hours in the gym have definitely paid off. You could crack eggs on those muscles, they're so defined. 

It's almost sunset. From this spot I can see the horizon and the beach, and feel the wind--it's gorgeous, it feels wonderful, it's like the red sky and salt breeze are leaving me limp. Jim's coming up here; he's been out there for a couple of hours, and he's soaking wet. Better dig that moisturizer out, or he's going to have a wicked case of salt burn tomorrow. I wonder where I put the towels--oh, right, back at the house.. 

The breeze feels incredible. If I stretch I can feel it riffling through my fingers--mmm. Cool. I think I'll just wait for him up here. He doesn't need a towel _that bad._ He'll dry off. 

What was that!--oh, just a seagull. Man, my heart's pounding now. Those things are _loud!_ It's twilight now, I must have fallen asleep. Jim's beside me now, and I'm leaning against his shoulder; he's watching the sky, and I look too. It's just at that wonderful, luminous shade of blue that you only see on the clearest nights. Beautiful. Jim's smiling slightly, breathing deep and slow, eyes half-lidded--he looks like a big cat, half-asleep and ready to purr. I want to laugh, but I don't. I like the way it makes him look. 

He turns to look down at me, the smile going wider. Man, he is so cute when he does that. I scoot a little closer, using his warmth as ammunition against the evening chill. His eyes are almost compelling, and they look--oddly content. Like some big question just got answered, or some trouble was resolved. He drops an arm over my shoulder and turns back to watching the last of the sunset fade from the sky. I watch with him, until the stars come out, icy-white against a velvety black sky. 

He turns back to me, moving so that he's almost facing me and I'm leaning against his bare chest instead of his side. One hand comes up, smoothes my hair out of my face. Jim's got such great hands--long fingers, masculine but elegant. I'm shorter than him, but my hands are bigger--isn't that weird? But I can't think about that now. 

His eyes are dark, and a little uncertain. I'm not sure, but I think he's blushing. I smile at him, reassuring him--I'm okay, Jim. I'm just fine. Go ahead--and his hand shifts, cupping my jaw, tilting my face up to his. He lowers his head, his eyes asking for permission. I've just realized what he's planning to do, but you know? I have absolutely no intention of denying him anything he wants--especially not when I want it too. 

I hope that it shows in my eyes, because I don't think I could speak now if my life depended on it. 

I guess it does. His mouth is wide and firm and oh-so-good, tentative explorations giving way to more confident tastings and testings as I kiss him back. And it goes on and on, that single, wonderful, perfect kiss, criminally good, and when we break for breath I'm dizzy and he's panting and we're both grinning so hard...wow. Double-damn fucking incredible wow. 

And I tell him what I've been sitting here thinking about, today, and all the days, ever since we first met. Because it's the truth, and it's the moment. 

"I love you." 

His eyes close, and he drops his head again, resting against me, then he bends and kisses me just behind my ear. And he whispers something that make my eyes sting, soft and quiet and like he can't believe how well this turned out, like the biggest gamble in his life just paid off, like he has now everything he ever wanted or could ever want, and it was me that gave it to him. 

"I love you too, Chief." 

* * *

End Clear Spoken Words.

 


End file.
